


singed at the edge

by Domoz



Category: Critical Hit (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:30:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2012790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domoz/pseuds/Domoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fic prompt: randus goes back in time to save smith</p><p>"It’s best if he doesn’t wake up, you realize."</p>
            </blockquote>





	singed at the edge

Time travel is tricky and dangerous, you know, you know. And you’re not exactly a master of it but you’ve been writing these plans for months, almost a year, now.

When you first started writing you had told yourself that they were a coping mechanism, that you would never go through with any of them and that you’d stop writing them when the guilt did.

(you never found his family, never got him that statue. The only reason he climbed in there and died in the first place was because of your suggestion)

But the guilt never stopped, so neither did the plans. You have a thick folder full of them,now. And, technically, all the time in the world to try and make them work.

  


  


You ought to explain. You’ve written countless pages, front to back, in tiny writing of plans you could take to go back in time and keep Smith from dying.

You know there will consequences for messing things up. You know that you can’t just  _bring him back,_ that you have to be very careful not to see yourself or change anything  _too_ much.

The biggest danger is that you’ll end up on another time-line without realizing- but you’ve managed something, a little add on to your armor that should alert you if you end up in the wrong time. All you should have to do is go back in time, to before the alarm went off, and you should stll be safe.

Plus it functions off of energy generated by your own body. Very efficent.

The plan, basically, is to go back and save him, without yourself knowing. Then come back to your own time and find him, alive.

Not that you have any proof that he’s alive on your time-line. But you do have hope.

You miss him. You have a chance.

You jump through time.

-

Originally you wanted to try convincing him not to get in the fuse at all, or had that failed disabled the fuse, found another way. But it has to go how you remembered it, or it won’t work. He’s going to have to get hurt.

You have to convince yourself, your past self, that he’s died, and work from there.

Plan one, allow him close enough to death to fool everyone, stabilize him once they bring him onto the ship and replace him with something else for the funeral.

Well, that’s most of your plans, the variable being when you stabilize him or what you replace him with.

Attempt one, during the battle, immediately after the fuse, you run to him, kneel down, inject him with a mixture you had ready.

(you had forgotten just how bad, how painful it must have been for him. He doesn’t make a noise when The Thing rips from him, he just clutches his chest and curls in on himself and wheezes)

It’s too much, you think. When you step back from him, go back into hiding you see him open his eyes, start to sit up, despite the wounds.

He looks confused and angry. He struggles to his feet, finds a dagger. He intends to destroy the Thing.

That’s wrong, that _didn’t happen._

You hear a single loud beep.

You wait, a moment. Two beeps, three, and then they start repeating faster and faster. You messed this one up.

You jump back.

-

The second time you try it, you use too little. When you sneak onto the airship to further stabilize him he’s gone, for real.

You jump back.

-

It takes you a few attempts to get it right.

Once, someone spots you, and you have to start over. You hope you didn’t mess that time-line up too bad.

And there are a few times where you- past you- is able to spot that he’s still alive and help him live.

And that’s good, You’re glad, but every time it triggers your alarm and you have to go back.

-

Part two of that plan doesn’t go so smoothly. Once he’s on the ship you have to sneak on after him, then bring him back from the brink the moment he’s alone.

You get caught at least once, just sneaking on.

The actual procedure to save him is difficult, too, and you loose him a few times that way before you get the hang of that.

But you do get the hang of it. Every attempt now he’s coming back from the brink, breathing again.

You get farther and farther without hearing a single beep.

(and then there are the times where you shift your weight the wrong way and your alarm goes off and you have to start again, start again, start again. But you get a little farther each time. You still have hope)

-

Sometimes you do so well that he wakes up.

You’ll smile at him, hug him, start explaining what’s going on-

Beep.

You jump back.

-

Sometimes you do so well that he wakes up.

You’ll smile at him, choose your words very carefully, telling him what you plan to do-

Beep.

You jump back.

-

Sometimes you do so well that he wakes up.

You help him sit up, smile at him sadly. He asks what happened-

Beep.

Jump back.

-

It’s best if he doesn’t wake up, you realize.

-

The next part of your plan is to replace him. To have him live, but still have a funeral.

Your options are few, here.

Magic doesn’t work, Orem always catches on to that and sets off your alarm.

A convincing look-alive? No.

No. No. No.

They always figure it out.

He lives, but not for you, not on your time-line.

You jump back.

-

Your second to last plan the most time consuming, by far. But you have plenty of time to spare.

You wait until after he dies, until after they bring him back to the Exlilarchy, until long after they have his funeral and you and Orem and Torq are sent to Shallai.

You gather the ashes.

It’s a slow and painful process, but you’ve worked out a system to determine what belongs to him.

Your alarm, at least, doesn’t go off.

-

You gather the ashes, sit down with them in silence and prayer to bring him back the old fashioned way.  
  


It is a long and quiet eight hours.

-

He comes back.

He comes back, and wakes up, tired and hurting, but  _he comes back._

You’re smiling, there are tears in your eyes. You hug him and say _I missed you I missed you_ and he sputters and asks  _what happened, what’s going on?_

  
And then when you pull back to look him in the face the worst happens.

Beep.

You feel your face drop- he looks panicked at that, and he keeps asking _whats wrong?_

The beeps speed up, you can’t stay long.

You say,  _I’m sorry. You’re going to be okay, but I have to go._

You jump.

-

You try it this way a few more times. Saying different things to him, once leaving before he ever wakes up.

Every time, there eventually comes a beep.

That leaves your final, and most dangerous plan.

-

You bring him back. He wakes up all confusion and pain and you help him sit up.

There’s no time to loose.

Beep.

You ask him _will you to come with me?_

Beep. Beep.

He says, _what?_

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You ask him again. He looks confused but he says,  _alright._

You grab his forearms and you jump.

-

The time it takes for you to jump isn’t even a measurable span of time at all, it’s hardly a moment before its over, ad even in the miserable tiny spec of time, you manage to loose your grip. You loose Smith somewhere in the time stream.

-

(The funny thing about time travel is that the time-line is always, always splitting, and you have to stay on yours. When you made that jump the time-line split. There’s a universe where you didn’t loose your grip, where you manged to pull him through with you and hug him tight and tell him how sorry you were and how much you missed him. But that is not the time-line you are on, or will ever be on.)

-

You sit in your room very much alone.

You tried a thousand times, lost him a thousand times.

And for the most part, that’s not so bad. There’s nearly a thousand time-lines now where he  _does_ live, where you don’t get him killed)

(They’re just not  _yours)_

What troubles you, really troubles you, is that final time.

You had him, you had brought him back, and then lost him in the jump and killed him all over. You feel more guilty now than you did when it first happened.

You find your plans, scattered over so many tables, over the floor. The first sheet you find crumples to shreds in your fist.

It was a mistake. Of course it was a mistake. These plans were no good, no good at all, not for you, and certainly not for him. Not that last time.

  


You guess you owe him two statues, now. And then some.

  


You gather all those papers, stack them neatly, put them back in their folder and wrap them neatly with a bit of twine.

  


You throw them in the fire, watch them burn to ash.

  


You’re sick. Sick of yourself, and ashes, and failed plans.

You miss him.


End file.
